This story involves two people, one whose native language is English, and one who speaks English with minimal fluency, making a lot of typical grammatical errors, whose native language is Spanish.
At times they use Google Translate when a full understanding is needed for critical communication. At such times, I have indicated that use by giving the speaker's name followed by a colon, followed by the English either spoken or translated into English. For example:
Sophie: "I met John in the food court of the mall." (from her Spanish)
When they are not using Translate, the speech is shown normally. The English spoken by Sophia is often grammatically incorrect and is shown that way.
A note on the category for this story. Picking one category is like answering a well-written multiple choice question; I can talk myself into several answers. I ultimately chose Mature, but could just as easily have chosen Romance or First Time.
Retired, 53 and alone.
I had not planned on either. Retired or alone, that is. The 53 thing is not in my control.
I inherited a large amount of money from my parents--both died in their 60s. I decided to quit my job as a lawyer and buy a business. I wasn't sure yet what business.
I say I decided, but it wasn't that way at all. Jill and I decided. This was her life, too. We married just as I graduated from law school, with a great offer from a law firm in my pocket.
Jill and I had two children, one of each. We also had a wonderful marriage.
I suppose all people who marry expect the raw passion of newlyweds to characterize the marriage forever, but then discover it is not that way. Some couples become disheartened and divorce, in search of that passion. Others, such as Jill and I, raised our children and our love for each other deepened.
We still led an active sex life, one we both enjoyed, but it was more like 1-2 times per week than 3-4 times a day! We were also each other's best friend. A foundation. A rock we could each depend on. It sounds too trite to say, but I knew I loved her more than when we married. It was a deeper, more grounded love.
Jill was involved in all of my decisions.
I mentioned my business plans to a close friend at our firm. Soon after I left, he called me to set up lunch with one of his clients, a business owner considering selling.
To make a quick end to that part of my story. I knew nothing about plastics recycling, but I can analyze financial statements. This was a money machine.
As part of my due diligence, I learned the operations manager was a man named Bill. With permission of the seller, I met with Bill and explained my interest in the business. I offered him $1,000 a month raise if he would commit to stay for at least five years. No contract, just a handshake. He agreed.
I bought the business for $1.5 million. I invested $500k of my cash and got a low-rate loan for the balance.
I asked Bill to teach me the business. We went to work. Inside of a year I felt I understood enough to survive if Bill left. I also saw my opportunity.
"Bill, it seems to me the weakness in the business now is a lack of an active outside sales effort. Almost all new customers have come by referral, or they have heard of us. I want to work on that part myself."
During the next year I learned how to market our services. "Plastics recycling" doesn't do justice to our function. Manufacturers using various types of materials, PVC for instance, use injection molding for much of what they make. The scraps trimmed away are what we buy.
We buy them from manufacturers as varied as medical devices and sprinklers. We clean the material and grind it into pellets we can then sell to those same manufacturers. It is cheaper than new material for them and represents a healthy profit for us.
When I bought the business, I was taking home about $200,000 annually. That represented a 40% ROI, before taxes! Within five years I had doubled that--revenue had increased three-fold. I also gave Bill another raise, this time an increase of $2,000 a month.
After another five years, two things happened:
Bill retired. I had three years notice to prepare for that date and he had stayed 7 years instead of 5. Between us, we found his replacement, a man named Mark. It was an almost seamless transition.
I was also now taking home $500,000 a year, and I had paid off that $1 million loan.
A year later, a third thing happened.
It began with a phone call from my wife's close friend, and our next-door neighbor, Mary. She was sobbing.
"Mary, what's wrong? Are you alright?
"John, it's Jill! I'm so sorry!"
"What, Mary? What has happened?"
"We were on our morning walk and Jill stepped in front of a truck. We were going to cross the street, and she didn't even look.
"I'm so sorry, John, but she didn't survive."
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I had read once the most stressful experience one could have is the death of a spouse. When I read that, I wondered whether it was true.
It is.
It is an awful experience. You discover everything you depended on her for. You discover loneliness. Not just a passing kind of loneliness--the kind of loneliness that goes deep into your soul.
The empty half of the bed mocked my efforts to move on. Three-quarters of our closet was still full of her clothes. A cup of her pencils and pens on her dresser no longer meant anything to anyone. The detritus of her life surrounded me.
A couple of months after she died, I decided to clean out her closet. I asked my daughter, Toni, to come and help. The first thing she took off a hanger was one of Jill's favorite tops. Toni took one look at my face and hung it up. She then pushed me out of the closet.
"Dad, you aren't ready for this."
It wasn't supposed to be this way. Jill and I had plans for retirement together. What is the point of saving for retirement only to have no one to share it with?
Mark had kept the business churning out cash. He told me not to come in until I was ready. He understood. He called me now and then with a question, but for the most part left me to grieve.
After another couple of months, I knew two things:
My heart was no longer in the business, and I needed to sell before sales began to decline.
Bill, Mark and a third man approached me with an offer of $5.2 million. I rejected their offer and countered with $5 million.
Bill called me. "Are you ok, John? You know you countered for less money."
"I know, Bill. Consider it my thanks for everything you did for me during the years we worked together."
"Thanks, John. In that case, we accept."
-----[]---[]-----
I made another big change.
The attorney who had been my mentor fresh out of law school had retired to Panama.
"John, this is Spence. I just heard about Jill. I am heartbroken for you."
"Thanks, Spence. Jill liked you more than I did. You never gave her rotten assignments!"
Spence was laughing. "I was just trying to prepare you for the demands of a growing honey-do list.
"Seriously, though, have you decided what to do now? I also heard you sold the business. Are you going back to practice law?"
"No more law for me. I loved parts of it, just not the law firm politics."
"I get that!"
"Spence, how do you like Panama?"
That is the question I asked, his answer to which led to more talks and eventually to me buying a condo in the Punta Pacifica neighborhood of Panama City.
-----[]---[]-----
I moved down here about eight months ago. I settled in, discovered how cheap labor was, and brought in a recommended contractor to make a few changes to the condo. I also hired an interior decorator who had worked in the U.S.
Although I cooked a fair amount for myself, I quickly discovered how discouraging it can be to cook for one. Since even nice restaurants here are not expensive, I often ate out. Sometimes even for lunch.
This background led me to Sophie.
-----[]---[]-----
I was at a mall not far from me, Multiplaza. It is a huge, gorgeous, high-end mall with a lot of designer label stores and a surprising assortment of good restaurants. However, on this day, I was in the food court, the zone of fast food.
